Birthdays, Checklists, and Welcome Surprises
by wazlib88
Summary: Hermione Weasley shares her twenty-sixth birthday with somebody very special. A sequel of sorts to "Birthdays, Gifts, and Domestic Bliss," but can stand alone.


A/N: One year ago today, I posted my very first fic as wazlib88. Today, I present the sequel to that fic. It is not necessary that you read "Birthdays, Gifts, and Domestic Bliss" before you read this installment, but I won't tell you not to. :) There's also a little moment in "Kissing You" that sort of ties in to this as well.

Just so everyone knows – I am currently without a laptop, which means that the "Take My Hand" epilogue is postponed until further notice. There's a longer post explaining it all on tumblr – if you go to (slash) tagged (slash) wazlib88 you should be able to find it.

But I was able to use a library computer to type this up, thankfully! I've been planning this fic for a few months now. Prepare yourself for 3500 words of complete and utter FLUFF!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling knows where to find all the fantastic beasts, but I don't own Harry Potter so there's no need for her to find me.

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_19 September 2005_

"Happy birthday, Hermione!"

Hermione only groaned in response to the exuberant voice coming from the direction of the door, but the noise persisted.

"Good morning, birthday girl!" Hermione could practically hear Ron's mischievous grin.

"Aren't you meant to be at work?" she grumbled reluctantly, prying one eye open with great effort and taking in her husband's over-excited features; the one positive thing about this rude awakening, she decided, was that he was carrying a tray of food, which he proceeded to set on the bedside table.

"Not 'til I wish my lovely wife a happy birthday, I'm not," Ron replied pleasantly. "And not 'til I wish Baby a good morning," he added as an afterthought, leaning down to nuzzle Hermione's protruding stomach.

She batted at his head irritably. "We know we're going to call her Rose."

"But that'll be when she's real," Ron protested with entirely too much happiness in his voice.

"She feels pretty _bloody_ real to me," Hermione muttered, sighing heavily as she heaved herself up into a seated position, displacing Ron's head in the process. She didn't bother to apologize.

"So it's that sort of a day, is it?" Ron asked knowingly, readjusting with a sort of uncharacteristic grace until he was in a seated position on the mattress beside Hermione. She felt momentarily guilty; he must have got used to her pushing him around a bit these past weeks. Then, the meaning of his comment hit her.

"What sort of a day?" she asked menacingly. She just noticed the flash of panic across Ron's features as she spoke, but once again he recovered quickly.

"A _breakfast_ sort of a day!" he replied with a winning grin, picking up the tray again. He faltered and frowned for a moment as he tried to work out how to set it on her lap, but smoothly laid it on his own instead and offered her a fork.

"Thanks," Hermione said, only a little grudgingly. "Sorry."

"Not like I blame you. You've got a person in your belly," Ron laughed. "But we're almost there, yeah?"

"Yes, one more week until we never have sex again," Hermione deadpanned.

Ron barked in laughter. "Empty threats. But speaking of–" He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. "Happy birthday, love."

"You've said that," Hermione pointed out, but she smiled slightly all the same.

"Anything you want to do to celebrate?" Ron asked. "I've got a gift for later – just a small one, and it's for Baby, so don't get stingy."

"I won't complain," Hermione replied sweetly. "Though if I really wanted something, I'd want you to remember to bring back any of the case reports my assistant sends you."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll bring back your work. So much for maternity leave," Ron snorted.

"Ron you know perfectly well that I work for the Department of Magical–"

"Law Enforcement, I know," Ron rolled his eyes. "So do I, I'll have you remember."

"So you know that the law doesn't stop when I have a baby," Hermione pointed out. "I'll go stir-crazy if I don't have my cases to work on!"

"And the department is liable to fall apart without you," Ron finished in a bored tone. "I know, love. But you still need your rest."

"So I'll be spending my birthday reading case files in bed," Hermione concluded.

"Y'know, that's probably your definition of a _good_ birthday," Ron mused, his expression caught between amusement and disgust.

"It's just a day," Hermione reminded him.

"Still, I'll make you dinner tonight, and after that I'll make plenty of sweet birthday love to you. Double it, actually, since we're evidently embracing celibacy soon enough," Ron added as an afterthought.

"Can you never use the phrase 'make sweet birthday love' ever again, please?" Hermione requested with a reluctant giggle.

"Fine. Not 'til we're in our fifties, anyway," Ron grinned and swooped in to kiss her quickly again. "I really best be off. You'll be okay here?"

"Yes, I think I can manage sitting in bed all day," Hermione replied sarcastically.

"I'll try to bag off early," Ron promised.

"You have responsibilities, Ron–"

"And my top responsibility is to my wife," Ron finished.

"I'll be fine," Hermione insisted, though she smiled a little at his concern. "Really, go."

"Happy birthday," Ron repeated, stealing one more gentle kiss before climbing off the bed and lying the half-empty food tray next to her. "I love you."

"I'll grow sick of that if you keep saying it," Hermione quipped.

"Which one?" Ron teased, winking ridiculously on his way out of the room.

"I love you, too," Hermione called after him with a laugh as she settled in to the rest of her breakfast.

The day passed fairly quickly; Hermione felt a bit strange waddling around the house in her pajamas, but she figured she ought to at least get up and move a bit. Knowing Ron would have a conniption if she tried to do any chores, she alternated between reading her parenting books on the sofa and looking through her case files in bed for a bit of a change of scenery. She had a bit of mild discomfort throughout the day, but she was expecting it – she was more than 38 weeks pregnant, after all.

Despite her efforts to keep busy, Hermione shortly found herself reminiscing, _Your Bundle of Magic and You_ lying forgotten on the sofa next to her. It had been one year ago, on her twenty-fifth birthday, that she and Ron had decided they wanted to give the parenting thing a go sooner rather than later. It had taken only three months (though Hermione supposed that was an eternity in Weasley standards) of trying before she missed a period. She had proceeded to take three muggle pregnancy tests and perform the appropriate charm twice before telling Ron, not wanting to excite him over a false alarm. But every test had come back positive, and a few hours later she and Ron were shedding tears of joy as they embraced the next chapter of their lives together.

Counting back, Hermione was fairly certain she knew exactly when they had conceived their little girl. It had been Christmas Eve, actually, and Ron had just presented her with a parcel wrapped in an old copy of the Daily Prophet.

"I just saw it in Diagon Alley today," he'd explained as he handed it to her nervously. "Obviously we can't use it yet, but…"

He hadn't managed to reach the end of his sentence, because Hermione had jumped him. They made love on their sitting room floor next to the beautifully decorated Christmas tree and the glowing fireplace, the glass baby bottle decorated with a small carving of a lion lying momentarily forgotten in its box.

When she thought about it after the fact, Hermione found it a bit ironic that the one time they _hadn't_ been thinking about ovulation and cycles had been the time they had successfully conceived. But that seemed to be their way, didn't it? Things never seemed to happen the way they planned them, but in the end, they always seemed to turn out better for it.

And that was when it happened.

Looking down in a mix of mild horror and bewilderment, Hermione realized that whether she was ready or not, it was time.

Taking several deep breaths, she walked slowly into the kitchen to collect the hospital bag she and Ron had packed over the weekend. Running down her mental checklist, she summoned a light jacket from the closet to throw on over her pajamas. Next, she took out her wand to send a Patronus to Ron. "My water broke. Meet me at St. Mungo's," she said in the most clear and concise tone she could muster, though she was sure her voice broke on the last word.

An almost involuntary grin spread across her face as she gathered her things and waddled back toward the sitting room to Floo to the hospital. She had expected to feel panicky, but instead, she was in a strange state of calm. She was having a baby. She was having _Ron's_ baby. Her baby and Ron's baby. Their baby. Baby. _Okay_, she thought,_ perhaps I'm not that calm_.

She took a moment to collect herself; it wouldn't do to come out in the wrong grate. After all. After several more deep breaths and a last-minute Patronus to Ginny, instructing her to let the family know and to send an owl to her parents' dental practice, Hermione stepped into the fireplace. It was happening. "St. Mungo's," she said clearly, and the sitting room disappeared before her eyes.

She stumbled out of the grate in the lobby of the hospital a moment later, and she fell straight into a strong and familiar set of arms.

"You're having the baby?!"

"Ron?" Hermione disentangled herself from the embrace and looked in mild surprise into her husband's stunned eyes.

"I was already here," he said bashfully, raising up his heavily bandaged right arm.

"What happened?" Hermione asked immediately, reaching forward to brush the bandage with her fingertips.

"Just a bit of a burn, nothing serious. They needed me out on a raid today with some of the trainees. Some bloke was illegally breeding dragons," Ron explained shortly. "Does it matter?"

"Yes! You need to _tell_ me when these things happen," Hermione scolded him. "Honestly, Ron, I have half a mind to ask Harry to keep tabs on you _for_ me; if you've been hurt–"

"Hermione!" Ron interrupted her, gripping her shoulder with his good arm. "Hermione, I was going to tell you when I got home! Does it seriously matter _right now_?"

"It _does–_"

"Hermione, we're having a baby!" Ron interrupted again, his eyes almost as wide as the wild grin that adornedhis mouth.

"Oh Merlin, we are, aren't we?" Hermione asked, her voice a little quieter this time. Only now that her labor-checklist had been fulfilled, only now that she was standing with her husband, did she truly allow herself to feel the impact of the moment. "We're having a baby," she whispered, a smile spreading across her face.

Ron leaned in to kiss her soundly. "We're gonna need a Healer now, yeah?" he pointed out when he pulled away. "As much as I'd _love _to deliver this baby myself–"

"A Healer, yes!" Hermione returned to her business-like tone as she took Ron's hand and strode hastily toward the front desk (as quickly as she could move in her state, anyway).

"Yes, hello, I'm–" Hermione began.

"We're having a baby!" Ron announced giddily to the receptionist.

The receptionist, a grumpy-looking woman in her mid-forties, seemed to soften a bit at his exuberance. "Help yourself to one of the chairs in the corner. I'll call for a Healer to assist you shortly."

"Thank you!" Ron replied, wrapping an arm around Hermione's shoulder and guiding her toward the chairs in question; they weren't wheelchairs, like Hermione was accustomed to. Rather, they seemed to hover a few inches above the ground.

"I _can_ sit down, you know," Hermione told Ron as he helped her into the nearest chair. "I – oh, ow!"

"What's wrong?" Ron asked immediately, kneeling down beside her and taking her hand with his good one.

"Contraction," Hermione replied shortly, squeezing his hand to indicate that he ought to shut up until it was over. Luckily, it passed fairly quickly, and Hermione took a deep breath. "I've been having some discomfort all day, but I suppose it may have been contractions the whole time."

"And you didn't think anything of it?" Ron asked with a frown.

"This one was quite a bit more painful than the others," Hermione explained. "I suppose that makes sense. Contractions can last for hours. Actually, we probably still have a couple of hours to go before delivery, seeing as mine have only just started to get stronger."

Ron still looked a little worried. "I wish I'd have stayed home today."

"There wasn't anything to do but wait, even if I had realized," Hermione pointed out with a small smile.

It turned out that even after they got situated into a delivery room, there wasn't much to do but wait. The Healers would periodically measure to see how dilated she was, and Ron held her hand as the contractions began to grow in both frequency and intensity. Hermione could tell he was getting a bit antsy, but his resolve to hold his tongue seemed to strengthen each time she grimaced in discomfort.

Every so often, Ron would leave the room to update what he described as "the extras" on their progress. Apparently, most of the extended family had gathered in the waiting room outside, and Hermione was thankful that none of them seemed to be too keen on joining them in the delivery room. There was, however, one welcome addition nearly three hours after they arrived.

"Look who I found!" Ron announced triumphantly as he returned to the room after his fourth trip out.

"Mum!" Hermione sighed in relief. "Is Dad here too?"

"He's outside with the others. Don't feel too offended, dear; it took a good bit of persuasion to get him to stay in the room when I had you," Mum quipped, crossing the room quickly and dropping a kiss on her forehead. "Happy birthday, sweetheart."

Hermione gave a hollow laugh. "That's the last thing on my mind at the moment."

"It's exciting, isn't it?" Ron asked, as though Hermione hadn't spoken.

"You're just happy you'll only have one date to remember," Hermione shot back with a groan.

Mum chuckled good-naturedly. "Imagine all the double birthday parties I can throw," she teased.

"I'll help," Ron announced proudly as he took his seat by Hermione's bedside again. "Anything for my two beautiful girls."

"You never know. She might be ugly," Hermione deadpanned. Mum gasped in mock horror.

"You're snarky when you're in labor," Ron remarked.

"Well, you might be too, if you were about to push a human out of your uterus," Hermione pointed out grumpily.

"Just don't throw Ron out of the room, love. You'll want him there when she gets here," Mum advised, squeezing her hand gently. "I'll wait outside, okay?"

"You can stay if you want," Hermione said, but Mum shook her head.

"You know how excited I am to meet my granddaughter, but she's _your_ daughter," she remarked wisely. "The three of you will want a minute alone once all's said and done. Do you know how long it'll be?"

"Not too much – _oh, bloody hell!_"

"The contractions are pretty close together now," Ron explained as he reached for Hermione's hand and allowed her to squeeze the life out of it. "The Healers say we'll be pushing soon, right?"

The Healer in the corner of the room nodded succinctly. "We'll measure again in a moment."

"I'll make my way out, then," Mum said. "I love you."

"We love you too," Ron replied as Hermione tried to catch her breath. The Healer began to investigate her cervix again, something she was simply resigned to at this point, and a moment later he tapped his wand against a panel on the wall.

"We're pushing," he announced.

Ron smiled widely. "You hear that, love? Time to push!" Hermione simply scowled at him.

When she recalled the event later, the next twenty minutes came back only as a painful, anxiety-filled blur. Her most vivid memory was of Ron's voice; yes, she had wanted to hex him where it hurt at the time, but in retrospect, it was his encouragements, and the memory of the look on his face when she'd told him she was pregnant in the first place, that kept her going until the final push – until at last, she heard the small cries she'd been waiting for.

"It's a girl!" the lead Healer announced unnecessarily as he beckoned Ron forward to cut the umbilical cord with his wand. In an apparent daze, Ron kissed Hermione's hand sloppily and stumbled forward to do the honors. The Healers said something about cleaning her up, but Hermione couldn't register anything. Tears were in her eyes, and she was breathing more heavily than she ever had.

Ron returned to her side at once and began to kiss all over her sweaty face. "Holy shit, you're amazing," he muttered against her cheek. "You were brilliant, love."

"Where is she?" Hermione asked dazedly.

"Right here." The lead Healer had returned with a bundle of blankets that Hermione vaguely realized, was her daughter. Ron stood up abruptly and held out his arms; the Healer placed the bundle into them, and Ron's stomach visibly contracted.

"Merlin, Hermione, you have to see her," he said in a wavering voice. "She's so fucking beautiful."

"Well, let me see her then!" Hermione said, reaching up with a feeble hand to tug on the edge of Ron's jumper.

"Budge over," Ron requested, and Hermione obliged as best she could so that Ron could sit on the bed next to her. Without taking his eyes off the bundle, Ron passed his daughter carefully into Hermione's waiting arms.

Hermione choked back a sob as she adjusted her hold on the tiny life she'd just brought into the world. She didn't know it was possible to love somebody so quickly, but she didn't question it in the slightest. Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. Hermione didn't acknowledge him; she was too busy gazing at their daughter. Her little eyes were still clamped shut, giving her the look of an angry mandrake, but she wasn't crying anymore. A tuft of auburn-red hair peeked out from the blankets, and Hermione sniffed loudly again. She _was_ beautiful in every possible way.

"Rose Weasley," Ron murmured quietly. "She even looks like a Rose."

"We chose well," Hermione whispered back.

"What's her middle name?" Ron asked, adjusting the blankets so that they could see her tiny, clenched fists. Ron stroked one gently and gave a strange laugh-sob when Rose moved it slightly.

"I was thinking…I'd like to call her Elizabeth, after my mum's middle name," Hermione replied. "Do you think it suits her?"

"Rose Elizabeth Weasley," Ron repeated, a touch of disbelief in her voice. "I love it. I love her. I love you, too."

"Me too," Hermione said softly. "Rose Elizabeth Weasley."

"I can't believe she's ours," Ron remarked as he drew Hermione closer to his side.

"You were there when we made her," Hermione pointed out with a sniff.

"Yeah, but…Merlin, how did we land somebody so perfect?" Ron remarked, nearly choking out the last bit, causing Hermione to giggle through her tears. "Oh, don't give me that; you're a mess too!"

"I'd say we're the furthest thing from a mess," Hermione protested, finally taking her eyes off Rose to beam at Ron.

Ron returned her grin. "Happy birthday, love."

"It's not just mine now," Hermione reminded him.

"I was talking to both of you," Ron insisted, but then he leaned closer to his sleeping daughter. "Happy birthday, Rosie. We love you more than anybody's ever loved anything, do you know that?"

"Your daddy's right," Hermione sniffled, turning her eyes back to the bundle in her arms. "You're perfect, sweetheart."

"And you've got the best mummy in the world," Ron added. "You're gonna be just as beautiful and brilliant as her, I can tell."

"And you're going to be just as loyal and funny as your daddy. Probably funnier, actually," she added as an afterthought.

Ron snorted in response. "And just as much of a know-it-all as your mum too, I suppose."

Hermione turned to face her husband again, and he reached up to brush the tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry we didn't get to 'make sweet love' tonight," she teased.

Ron looked positively affronted. "Hermione! Not in front of the baby!"

Hermione laughed jovially and leaned in to kiss him soundly on the mouth. "I don't think I've ever been so happy," she admitted when they pulled away a moment later, and both of their gazes gravitated immediately toward the miracle in their arms.

"Neither have I," Ron agreed softly. "Best birthday ever, then?"

"Best _day_ ever," Hermione replied, and Ron nuzzled against her neck in agreement.

In a few minutes, they would undoubtedly be surrounded by Weasleys, Grangers, and Potters alike, all eager to meet their little Rose. But for now, it was just the two of them who had become the three of them. It was true, things never quite turned out the way they were planned, but as Hermione sat in her hospital bed with her husband at her side and her daughter in her arms, she knew that there would never be perfection quite like that which existed here, in a family that had once seemed impossible, but that was now beautifully, incredibly _real_, and most importantly of all, entirely _theirs._

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A/N: Are you fluffy now? I know that delivery fics are fairly common…which is why I knew I'd have to write one eventually. :) I don't know the first thing about labor other than what the internet has told me, so please forgive any inaccuracies. Hopefully you found this enjoyable.

**Thank you so much for reading! I have an insane amount of love for all of you. Thank you for making my first year of writing fanfiction so incredible. You all never fail to make me smile with your lovely comments and feedback. I have had the pleasure of talking to so many awesome people, and I've had the opportunity to fall in love with writing (and with Ron and Hermione!) all over again. It's been amazing, so thank you for being a part of it.**

So because this is my universe… a happy 8th birthday to Ms. Rose Elizabeth Weasley!  
And, of course, a very happy 34th birthday to the one and only Hermione Jean (Granger) Weasley! :)


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